How I Spent My Day Off, by Tiffany O'Neill

My husband and I have an agreement. We give each other a Free Day once a month. This means that one of us gets a day to do whatever we choose while the other one feeds, changes, entertains and bathes the three kids. All day long. I always half-joke that when it's my turn, I'll happily develop selective amnesia (what kids? what laundry? what dishes?). It rarely happens that way, though. I can't speak for fathers, but I feel confident that mothers everywhere understand that after those babies are born we are never really and truly carefree. Your kids are on your mind, stealing thought-space you had reserved for contemplating all the goods in Bloomingdale's you'd buy if you won a shopping spree, or for reminiscing about the very best vacation you ever took before you even met your husband.

Not this time, I told myself. I needed my break this past Sunday more than usual. I was starting to feel, as Bilbo Baggins once said so succinctly, "like butter spread over too much bread." I gave my husband a quick overview of what-to-feed-whom and what-to-do-if as he drove me to the train station. I relished boarding the train without a stroller (was there ever a creature more graceful and free?!). A few minutes later I was traipsing out of the train, and trotting up the stairs (no pee-smelling elevator for me today!). I paused to enjoy the first few seconds when I emerged from the ground and into Manhattan. I love New York. I mean, if you see me wearing one of those tee shirts (which you won't) you can be sure I'm sincere about the heart.

First I had brunch at a diner in Herald square. As I ate, I read my library book and forgot that I was not the only person in the room. No one asked me to take them to the bathroom or to pick up their crayon for the seventy-fifth time. (This could have happened; there are some characters in that part of town. But it didn't.) Then I wandered to Bryant Park and watched them building the ice skating rink. Maybe this year, I thought, the girls can begin learning to skate. I had a cup of coffee and read some more under the leafy green canopy just starting to go orange around the edges. I sat by the carousel. I watched the kids flipping through the shelves of children's books that are always out there amid the colorful miniature tables and chairs. Bryant Park is adjacent to the New York Public Libarary. My girls just love looking at books outside while they wait for their turn on the carousel. The last time we were there as a family I was certain Ronan was going to take his first steps. I checked the time. It felt like I had been away from them longer than I had. I hoped Daddy was giving them a decent lunch.

I stopped into H&M on Fifth Avenue and shuffled around the store with an armload of clothes for an hour. Then I realized everything would look horrid on me and vowed to come back when I lost twenty pounds. I decided to visit Barnes and Noble. Now, if it's one sacrifice I've felt since having kids it's the loss of movie theaters and Barnes and Noble. Okay, that's two sacrifices. I started out looking at all the cookbooks and Gifts for Writers that no one ever buys for me, but soon I found myself in the children's section. I found a wonderful book called A Treasury for Five-Year-Olds, perfect for my Elizabeth turning five in two weeks. Thinking of Elizabeth's birthday made me remember that Build-a-Bear Workshop is right next door to B&N, and that's where we've promised to take the girls as a birthday treat. The minute I went inside I smiled, because I can't wait to see the look on Elizabeth's face when she sees this place. I checked the time again.

When you find yourself Catholic and standing on Fifth Avenue in New York on a Sunday evening a few minutes before five-thirty, there's only one place you can go: St. Patrick's. No matter how many times I visit the cathedral, I'm awestruck. I just keep thinking, What faith it took to build this. Would it be built today? I sat next to a family with two little girls. I hoped my kids were as good today with Daddy at Mass as these little ones were.

Finally, it was time to go home. The few minutes between New York and New Jersey seemed to take so much longer than they had coming in. I thought, as the train pulled in to Hoboken, Maybe next time I'll only take half-a-day off. Or, better yet, maybe I'll just get a pedicure, then take the girls into the city for lunch. Yeah. I'll do that.